Sane or Not Sane: That is the Question
by AnimationNut
Summary: Candace thinks about her mental state and how she feels about it, how it came to be and how she is affected by it. Rated T just to be safe. I do not own Phineas and Ferb.


**I kind of got inspired when I was reading the Catcher in the Rye. I do not own Phineas and Ferb or the Catcher in the Rye. I would love reviews, but not flames. This is my first shot at a drama and I would love to know how I made out.**

**Sane or Not Sane: That is the Question**

There it was again. The sound of hammers pounding wood and drills whirring at full power. To my brothers and their little friends, it was the promise of an exciting day with many adventures. To me it was the sound of my ever dipping sanity.

I can admit it. I may be going crazy in my young age. Perhaps I should be concerned, but yet for some reason I accept it. I can't quite do much about it, can I?

Do I blame my brothers? A little. They were the ones that built those crazy inventions every day without getting busted. If they didn't see their inventions disappear every day into thin air then maybe I would willingly accept my lack of sanity. But they knew. And they didn't really question it. They only truly thought about it when I brought it up.

But after that day they continued going on about their schemes like they always do.

I sighed and stared at my ceiling in the dark. Mom told me to take an easy day today and we would go for a check up tomorrow.

I know what she means. She's taking me to a psychiatrist. She's been thinking about it for a while now. But Dad managed to talk her out of it. After one of my panic attacks yesterday (even I can admit the Freak Out Rating went off scale) she put her foot down and made the appointment.

I suppose it was only a matter of time. I've been getting a bit more paranoid than usual. Even Stacy took a day off from me so SHE could control her sanity. I am quite contagious.

But she came around this morning with a bowl of chicken soup and told me she would call later. I found it a bit amusing. She thought chicken soup would magically make everything better. She's been hanging around my brothers too often.

I appreciate the gesture though. I know she is worried about me. So are Jeremy and Jenny and Grandma and Grandpa-both sets-and now my room looks like the inside of a florist shop. I guess that really must have been one heck of a panic attack...I still feel drowsy from the tranquilizers. But come on! I saw an entire Roman Gladiator Stadium dissolve in a second. I think that was an occasion for a freak out.

Mom didn't believe me, of course. She never does. Yeah, it is hard to believe if you don't see it with your own eyes, but I am her daughter! She's supposed to trust me!

I can hear the delivery trucks pulling up to the backyard. I really want to peek out my window, but I know a call to Mom won't help my case. It's so hard just sitting still though...

I watch the shadows sway across my walls and sigh. Everyone thinks I'm nuts, or at least not quite all put together, but none of my friends or family have asked me what I think.

Do I believe I am crazy?

Hmm...I can honestly say I have a hard time separating my hallucinations from reality. I saw my pet platypus Perry in a fedora and being a secret agent. I know it can't be true, and yet I always remember he disappears every single day. I constantly see a talking zebra that calls me Kevin, and even though we are no where around any kind of moss I still see him every once in a while.

He is a very good conversationalist, though.

I think I would be able to handle all of this a lot better if I believed. Yeah I know. Everything my brothers build is right in my backyard, right in front of my window. How can I not believe?

Even though I see it doesn't mean I believe it.

I suppose that should be vice versa, shouldn't it? But it is me after all. Crazy Candace. Why don't I believe it?

For one, my brothers are only ten. That is way too young to operate heavy machinery or construct giant roller-coasters and make their own robots. The only thing they should be making at that age is clay volcanoes. Yeah, Phineas and Ferb are gifted. But what they do is impossible!

Implausible!

Inconceivable!

Absurd!

Preposterous!

And yet they can do it in mere hours. I just can't wrap my mind around the fact they can create such extravagant things without getting caught.

Deep inside I am impressed. How can I not? But I still believe I am hallucinating most of the time.

The only thing I managed to make was the panic room. I certainly use THAT a lot. Although Mom locked it up for the time being. She doesn't think it's healthy to stay down there for too long.

I only stayed down there for seven hours one time. It wasn't so bad.

Mom thinks I should find other ways to relax. I guess yoga and meditating would be worth a shot. It's not like I got anything to lose.

If anything, I have something to gain.

Once when I had one of my trademarked screaming moments, Phineas joked that insanity was nothing but the next great adventure. Mom gave him a little whack on the head and shushed him. Phineas didn't understand the seriousness of my...'condition' until a few days ago.

I personally think he is the crazy one for suggesting that insanity was an adventure. It was far from one. I guess in his little mind it could be considered an adventure. An adventure within your own mind. Yeah right.

A loud crash comes from the backyard. I can hear Phineas hastily shushing whoever made the noise. I can imagine him worriedly casting a glance towards my window. He's going to worry if I don't say something. He's going to send someone to check up on me.

Footsteps quickly fall on the stairs. I knew it.

"Candace?" Isabella's sweet voice calls hesitantly through the closed door.

"Yeah?"

"Are you alright?"

Such a simple question. Too bad I can't think of an answer for that one. "I'm fine."

"Ok. Just holler if you need anything."

I listen to her receding footsteps. I found it mildly amusing that Phineas and Ferb were trying as hard as they could to keep the noise down so I wouldn't go round the bend, as Dad would say.

Trouble is I think I already swung around that bend. And I don't know if I'll find my way back.


End file.
